


Beat Laments The World

by tookumade



Series: Heart Reign [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23837647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tookumade/pseuds/tookumade
Summary: “Hey,” says Osamu as they’re nearing the locker room of their gymnasium for volleyball training. “Do you know if Suna’s mad at me?”Atsumu stares at him. “Why would he be mad at you?”“I dunno, it’s just… I think he’s been avoiding me, but I really can’t think of what I did wrong.”Osamu's POV of a snippet fromA Day By Atmosphere Supreme
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: Heart Reign [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1514411
Comments: 38
Kudos: 660





	Beat Laments The World

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a spoiler for [_A Day By Atmosphere Supreme_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12617652/), and it'll also make more sense if you've read that first.
> 
> I found this as a WIP I had forgotten about and ended up liking enough to clean it up and post, because I can. o/

These past few weeks haven’t been much fun. Suna is avoiding Osamu for some reason, and Osamu keeps racking his brain, keeps replaying their conversations and their actions in his mind, but he can’t think of anything he’s done that would have Suna acting like this. No one else seems to be acting strangely, Osamu is pretty sure he hasn’t done anything out of the ordinary, and he is _pretty sure_ he hasn’t been overly annoying. And anyway, Suna knows Osamu well enough to know what he’s like. Hell, Suna’s no angel, either. So…

Maybe Suna hadn’t actually liked it when Osamu started falling asleep on his shoulder? That’s the only thing Osamu can think of. Suna never told him to stop, but maybe he just didn’t want to seem uptight? But he’s never had a problem with telling Osamu whenever he doesn’t like something in the past, so this doesn’t make sense, either.

Osamu sighs. He hates thinking like this, mind going in circles and circles and getting nowhere.

“What’s with you?” Atsumu asks, staring at him as they walk to volleyball training. “Have you been resting and taking care of yourself? If you have to sit out another match because you’re not feeling well—”

“Shut up,” Osamu grumbles. “I’m fine.”

“Hmm…” He can feel Atsumu squinting at him, and he pointedly ignores him. He picks up his pace and Atsumu hastily matches it, because of course he does, because Atsumu is never far behind, because the only thing about him that Osamu could ever rely on was this odd consistency, because—

When it mattered, he could trust Atsumu for his honest opinion. (Probably. Maybe? Anyway…)

Osamu isn’t sure how his thoughts of worrying about Suna turned into relying on Atsumu, but he rolls with it.

“Hey,” says Osamu as they’re nearing the locker room of their gymnasium. “Do you know if Suna’s mad at me?”

Atsumu stares at him. “Why would he be mad at you?”

“I dunno, it’s just… I think he’s been avoiding me, but I really can’t think of what I did wrong.”

They enter the empty room, drop their bags to the floor, and begin getting changed.

“Why don’t you try talking to him?” Atsumu asks, and Osamu rolls his eyes at him.

“I just _said_ he’s been avoiding me. And when we do talk, he doesn’t look me in the eye anymore and it always feels like…” His stomach churns a little. “Like he doesn’t want to be there.” 

“Do you want me to stage an intervention?”

“You are literally the _last_ person I want staging any interventions.”

“So why are you telling me this?!”

“It’s just…” Osamu shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess I was hoping he had said something to you.”

There’s a funny look on Atsumu’s face that Osamu can’t quite read, which is rare and very odd. “He hasn’t said anything,” he says. “But, I mean… I’m _pretty sure_ he’s not mad at you.

Osamu stops in the middle of pulling his towel from his bag. “How do you know that?”

“You haven’t notice th… how are you my brother?”

“ _What?_ ”

“It’s… well… look, next time you manage to grab him, maybe you could bring it up with him? I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“I always forget how much you lack finesse.”

“What’s _finesse_ got to do with this?!”

Osamu pauses, thinks, and then pulls a face. “That’s true.”

“Did you just… _agree_ with me?”

“Shut up.”

“Get back here! I need to record this momen—” Osamu abruptly turns and heads out the room. “ _‘Samu! Come back!_ ”

Atsumu dashes after him when Osamu breaks into a run, promptly slamming into Aran, who had just arrived.

“ _Oof_ —”

“ _Shi_ —oh, sorry Aran—”

They don’t bother to hang around to hear him reprimand them, sprinting into the safety of the gymnasium. Not that there’s anywhere to hide in such an open space, not that there’s any reason to be running like they are, other than the fact that it’s familiar, them chasing each other for any number of reasons, and for now, with the uncertainty that’s lingering around him, Osamu likes familiar.

Atsumu’s words stay in his head, though. It’s later that night, when they’re back home and lying in their respective bunkbeds—Atsumu reading his novel for Japanese literature class (no, he is not being a diligent student—he’s actually two chapters behind) and Osamu staring at the ceiling—that Osamu finally decides to ask him about it.

“Hey… when I asked you about Suna and you said there was something I didn’t notice, what did you mean by that?”

Atsumu doesn’t answer for a while. Osamu’s eyes narrow, and after too long a silence, he finally leans over the side of the bunk bed to stare at him upside-down. The look on Atsumu’s face is that of exasperation, and then he begins to look _pitying_.

“Oh, Suna, my man,” he says, shaking his head. “I am so sorry.”

“If you keep being a cryptic little shit, I’m gonna tell dad about that time you—”

“ _Okay, all right, okay!_ ” Atsumu throws his book down with an unnecessarily loud sigh. “Look, I can’t tell you directly because that would be unfair to Suna, okay? But just… talk to him. Next time you see him, grab onto him and don’t let go. Make sure you listen to each other. It’ll be okay, trust me.”

“I would never.”

“Fine, don’t figure it out then.” With a huff, Atsumu returns to his book.

Well, that was completely unhelpful.

“Gonna tell dad,” Osamu mutters, retreating back onto his bunk.

“Hey! I said it would be unfair to Suna!” Atsumu kicks his mattress from between the bed slats. “Oi, jackass, don’t you dare! Are you listening to me?!”

Osamu, being Osamu, ignores him, sulkily shuffling to the side of his mattress that’s closest to the wall so it’s harder to feel Atsumu kicking him.

Grab onto Suna and don’t let go. Right. Easier said than done. Osamu would have to be able to catch him, first. How was he going to manage that?  
  


* * *

  
The next day, Osamu doesn’t see Suna at all. He had expected this, but it doesn’t make things feel any better. 

Throughout the day, he runs scripts in his head—things he could say to Suna, possible rebuttals, all sorts of imaginary scenarios ranging from ordinary and believable (example: he’d pinched Suna’s favourite highlighter and forgot to return it which was why Suna was upset at him (this doesn’t work because he has not borrowed anything off Suna recently, and anyway, Suna doesn’t believe in getting emotionally attached to pieces of stationery)) to outlandish and improbable (example: Suna is the long-lost heir to the emperor and has to leave his normal life behind soon and can’t bear to part ways with his beloved friends, and also there’s an evil uncle involved somehow (this one doesn’t work because ‘beloved friends’ is probably asking for too much)).

Okay, so maybe Osamu is going a little nutty with his over-thinking and over-worrying. Maybe he can make Suna laugh with the long-lost heir thing, if he ever stood still long enough for Osamu to talk to him again. Maybe…

All these thoughts suddenly tumble out of Osamu’s head when he looks up, and… there is Suna, walking ahead of him as they make their way out of school grounds. There’s a wild jolt of adrenaline that courses through him. _Next time you manage to grab him, maybe you could bring it up with him? I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?_ Maybe Atsumu was right—it wasn’t like Suna would _run_ or anything, would he?

Would he?

Osamu takes a deep breath. 

Over-thinking like this was never going to help him. So, he throws caution to the wind and calls out, “Suna.”

Suna doesn’t turn around, but there’s now a stiffness in his shoulders that makes Osamu’s heart sink. Yes, he knew that Suna had been avoiding him, but to see it happen like this, for it to be confirmed right in front of his eyes…

What had he done so wrong? Had he hurt Suna in some way?

“ _Suna_ ,” he says again, picking up his pace. He reaches out, and—

Suna suddenly breaks into a sprint, and Osamu, blessed with excellent reflexes, dashes after him before his brain can fully register that _Suna was literally running away from him, what the fuck!_

Osamu is fast, but Suna is faster and had a split second’s head-start, and in a few more streets, Osamu knows he’ll lose him. But he also knows this part of the neighbourhood better, and Suna’s heading down a road that will lead to…

He takes a detour, praying and praying that Suna will run the path he’s expecting, because if not, Osamu’s lost this chance to properly ask him what’s wrong, and he doesn’t know how many more chances he’ll have. He holds onto this one like a lifeline.

He makes a left, and then a right, and then—

( _Next time you see him—_ )

Up ahead. Suna has stopped and is standing by a corner, hunched over slightly and rubbing his palms against the sides of his pants and catching his breath, distracted enough that he doesn’t notice Osamu barrelling towards him, and nothing makes sense, Osamu doesn’t know what Suna’s so scared of, but he does know that they need to talk and sort things out, or Osamu risks losing a good friend.

( _—grab onto him and—_ )

In a whirlwind of movement, he finally reaches Suna and seizes him by the shirtfront, more roughly than he’d intended, but to hell with _finesse,_ to hell with being soft and cautious, to hell with quiet steps and letting Suna grow further and further apart from him, to hell with sitting back and doing nothing, as he’d done so often in the past. Suna grabs his wrists in a panic and tries to pull him away, but Osamu clings onto him.

( _—don’t let go._ )

“ _Why are you running away?_ What the _fuck_ are you running away from?” Osamu can’t stop the words forming in a shout in his throat. Everything about this moment stings with desperation that surprises even himself. It feels like ages since he’s been this close to Suna, and he misses everything that had been so good and comfortable about the two of them. What had changed? Where had Osamu screwed up? ( _Tell me, tell me, tell me, please, I don’t know—_ )

Suna doesn’t reply, refuses to meet his eyes at all, and Osamu, still out of breath, bows his head and mumbles, one final plea, “Can you at least tell me what I did wrong?”

It feels like one last chance. If Suna still won’t give him an answer, Osamu has nothing left, and he doesn’t know his next step from here. He’s not willing to let Suna go yet, but if that’s what he really wants… if he really wants Osamu to back off…

He’d do it, for Suna. If it was space he needed, then Osamu would give that to him. If Suna asked anything of him, Osamu would give him what he could.

( _Don’t let go._ )

Suna’s hands fall away, hanging by his sides. Uncertainly, Osamu raises his head, and the expression on Suna’s face hits him straight in his heart. Suna looks tired and defeated and _miserable_.

“I’m sorry,” says Suna, voice and words somehow so heavy. “I’m sorry. I really like you.”

There is a stunned silence. Osamu’s brain screeches to a halt, and with his breath knocked from his lungs, his eyes widen as he stares at Suna, who is still avoiding his gaze and is looking more guilty than he’s ever seen him.

What?

_What?_

This was what had been going on these past weeks? Osamu hadn’t done anything wrong? It was… It was _Suna?_ Suna, scared of his feelings?

( _I’m pretty sure he’s not mad at you._ )

His feelings for _Osamu?_

( _It’ll be okay, trust me._ )

Osamu’s grip on Suna’s shirtfront loosens a little.

( _Don’t let go._ )

 _Oh_. 

So that was it. That was—

Relief swells up in Osamu’s chest and he almost feels like laughing. He hadn’t hurt Suna. Suna wasn’t mad at him. Suna _liked_ him, _romantically_. There is so much Osamu wants to say to him, words swimming dizzyingly in his mind and fighting for coherency, and he can’t settle for any one thing.

He has never been that great with words anyway, he thinks. But he knows exactly what he wants to do now—maybe what _needs_ to be done.

“Okay,” says Osamu, the tension leaving him in his breath. “Okay.”

( _Don’t let go._ )

He pulls Suna close, and kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> Now playing ♪ _Beat Laments The World_ by Nujabes
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/naffnuffnice)


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